Tag: raising boys

It’s been a while. It’s 2018 and a cold, snowy, about to get snowier day here in Kamloops. The day so far has been full – reading an engaging book in early morning when all is quiet and making enough mental notes for a good conversation with the boys later on, walking the dog in winter crispness, meeting with Sasha’s teacher to lay out this semester’s intended learning (a group of homeschooling kids meet once a week for various learning activities such as nature excursions, science experiments, art, and of course, playing.) Add a haircut and grocery shopping… then we’re back home for the day’s learning.

Sasha settles on a book about Canadian discoveries, a library book that has them raise their eyebrows in surprise and say ‘Oh, I did not know that…’ or ‘Mom, did you know…’. Past the reading about discoveries comes the part where creativity kicks in and be it Lego, or other materials, various viable or less so inventions come to life. Inspiration is a word that contains a world of hopes, dreams, sweat, frustrations, and sometimes succeeding, but it never ends at that. It’s a word I’d like the boys to make it a constant presence in their lives as they grow up and I’d like the same for myself, to be inspired no matter what.

As we sit for lunch, we chat about an incoming overnight hike to a nearby lake, and I wish I could remember how the conversation slipped from snowy woods, cabins, and the games we’d play in the evening to Martin Luther King. While the boys still munch on their food, I read out loud about his contribution to the world and then we listen to his famous speech ‘I had a dream.’ The timing couldn’t have been more adequate. Our last weeks have been peppered with many conversations about equality, the expectation of some to dominate over others, modern-day slavery, the extent of it compared to the old day, the wrongness of allowing it as an invisible presence in the developed world market, the fact that people are still judging people based on the colour of their skin.

The boys sit and listen; I read some of the words that carry so much weight it’s a wonder (not the positive kind) we do not employ them more intensely in the education process. ‘Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity…’ has me read over twice because it brings so much with it. We live in an age when questionable leaders emerge with the help on internet ‘viral’ spreading of various kinds of information, true or otherwise.

We also live in a world where education is being tweaked to fit within narrow confines dictated by commercialism (presence of cell phones in classrooms has nothing to do with learning no matter how you turn it, no pun intended) and is often commandeered by the fear of imposing any boundaries, even though children’s well-being depends on the adults around them establishing healthy boundaries.

How are we to inspire the young generation to seek knowledge in the interest of preventing ultimately selfish pursuits and avoid ‘conscientious stupidity?’ How are we to inspire them to see that the world they are part of is requires patience to understand, a sense of wonder and determination to develop critical thinking skills that will eventually help create a better social, political, and environmental landscape…

Learning is a beautiful adventure, a constantly evolving path that can have us maintain a balance within ourselves as we grow, no matter our age, and balance with the world we belong to. I wish that by the time the boys are ready to take off flying, they will remember that and keep that as a bookmark of sorts in that book of knowledge they’ll hopefully keep tucked in their backpacks…

What’s the first thought that comes to mind when you think school? Joy. Ha! I am being cheeky, I know. It’s likely a math thought. Or science. Shudder. Not me; I am of the geek tribe that finds such subjects attractive. A language of sorts that helps in translating the world around into yet another comprehensible way. Or not, say many disillusioned former schoolers.

The first few days of having Tony at home two years ago when we started homeschooling came with a few serious confidence jolts. Do I have what it takes to do it? What about potholes? Because I knew there will be some. (There have been.) It felt like this: there’s a gate you open, you make your way through and then look for the path. There is none. You have to make one; with every step you take, a path appears. then you get lost. Repeat.

‘Do you like learning at home?’ I’d ask them both occasionally. Yes. Are they just being polite? Nope, we learn to be honest here. So no. Still, the path we make… Me, the guide. Them boys following.

I step unsurely at times because ‘what if?…’ – and most often, the what if is followed by a dark cloud. Gulp. The negative alternatives. Some days become so intense you’ll be thinking you’re heading for disaster. We cover subjects of all kinds, and then we make it our own with subjects we NEED to cover. Say, for example… emotions.

For all the stormy days we’ve had along the way, we need a manual on being. Emotions as they happen. Learning what takes us straight into the brambles where the spikes are and then there needs to be some learning on how to make our way out. Boys and emotions. There’s a book I cherish that is cradled among other parenting books: it’s called Raising Cain: Protecting the emotional life of boys (Dan Kindlon and Michael Thompson.) A peek inside a boy’s heart. The mysterious realm of storms and wonderful adventures.

So we made it a subject in our school. Ditto for learning to communicate respectfully, aiming for non-violence but feeling our way towards where one can stand tall, humble and vulnerable at the same time.

We talk about anger and joy, about letting others know how their actions make you feel, about the courage to look at yourself in the mirror that someone holds for you to see… We talk about being humble enough to accept that sometimes you’ll be the one leaving marks that do not show though they do exist among people’s feelings. Shreds of pain here and there, which you cause without meaning to do so.

On any given day, emotions filling us like a cup fills with tea. You pour until you reach below the brim. Physics dictate that if you continue the cup will overflow. Then you have to deal with the mess. We accept that as a fact because we see it happen. No witnesses needed, no explanations from the cup as to why everything went past the edge. Because you overdid it, that’s why. When it comes to pouring too much onto people and seeing their emotions overflow… there’s a lot to learn.

Kindness, we talk about that too. Perspective changing when you’re wearing each other’s shoes. Emotions exist and they are part of a person. You feel and your feelings matter. We more than touch on that. We look into each other’s eyes after a storm and that takes courage. It makes it possible to stay close to each other, to reach out when a curved ball reaches your soft sides, to laugh with all your heart, to cry when all becomes too much to bear. To listen when one says it hurts. To forgive and to learn why asking for forgiveness is such a gargantuan task . . . And yet, it’s vital. It makes hearts softer and minds more understanding of other people’s plight.

So onwards we go through days of learning. We tell stories, the boys open up and bravely speak up when the other’s actions are hurting, and we try to understand, repair trust and reinforce the connections. I am but a guide for it all, yet learning as much as they do from each of the subjects, emotions included (mine too, yes.)

For this is learning. Of ourselves most of all. With humbleness, with gratefulness, with courage to bare it all, emotion-wise. Hugs at bedtime are a must. Tomorrow we trek on farther than today. We follow a path we make with our own footsteps…